


Discover Your World

by MauveCat



Series: A Year in the Life [10]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveCat/pseuds/MauveCat
Summary: It's a lot of work to make a house a home...
Relationships: Estela Montoya/Main Character (Endless Summer)
Series: A Year in the Life [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885183
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Discover Your World

**JULY**

Taylor cautiously pressed her fingertip against the bedroom wall, and she let out a relieved breath when it came away dry. “It’s about time,” she muttered as she walked over to one of the electric fans pointed at the walls. “Stupid humidity.” Rather than switching the fan off, she moved it closer to the window and pointed it outside to help pull the smell of fresh paint out of the room. She and Estela would probably have to spend one more night in the room down the hall, but maybe the next night they’d be able to sleep in their own bed....

Her train of thought was interrupted by her phone going off, and her face lit up when she saw who was calling. “Hey, Quinn! I’ve been meaning to call but you beat me to it.” Taylor fell into an overstuffed chair in the corner.

“You sound winded – did I call at a bad time?”

“Not at all! You actually have great timing – I’ve been moving furniture and I really needed a break.”

Quinn laughed. “You and me both. I’ve got a board meeting tomorrow and I’ve been reading so many financial documents that I think my eyes are permanently crossed. Right now I’m sitting on the floor behind my desk – there’s a batch of interns running around and they’re all a little gung-ho. I’m hoping that if they can’t see me from the hallway, they won’t keep running in and out of my office.”

“More interns? Sounds like your foundation is expanding again.”

“Well, I’m not sure that I’d call it an expansion, but every summer we get a ton of applications from people wanting to do internships. I’d like to think that we get so many applicants because they really care about orphan diseases, but it’s probably because we pay our interns a decent stipend. Right now we’ve got... hold on.” Taylor heard a drawer open and close, and the rustling of papers. “Here’s the roster. There are three medical students, two who are going into social work, and a business major whose grandmother had Fabry disease. He seems to have a knack for fundraising, so I’m thinking about offering him a permanent position when he graduates next spring. That’s one of the things I’m discussing with the board tomorrow. I think that’s where we’re going to have to expand – as grateful as I am for all our volunteers, there are some things we need professionals for and we’re all feeling just a bit overworked – which is good! I’m glad that the Kelly Foundation is helping people. But I called you because I don’t want to think about that for a while. Tell me something fun and exciting.”

Taylor thought for a moment. “I tried that shortbread recipe you sent me and I didn’t set fire to the kitchen. Other than that… hmm.. I don’t know if it qualifies as fun _or_ exciting, but Estela and I finished painting our bedroom. The walls are _finally_ dry so while Estela’s at the university for a meeting, I’m trying to put everything back in place before she gets back.”

“Oooh, _I_ think that’s exciting!”

Taylor smiled at the enthusiasm in Quinn’s voice. “Maybe, but peeling off a mile of painting tape and pulling the tarps off the furniture definitely isn’t my favorite way to spend the afternoon.”

“Yeah, yeah. I bet it’s so pretty now – did you go with that shade of purple you were talking about?”

“We did.” Taylor looked around at the soft lavender walls in satisfaction. “About halfway through I started to worry that it was turning out a little too pinkish, but now I’m glad we kept going. Last week I was shopping in La Colina and I found this gorgeous material – it’s a really deep, intense ultramarine, remind me to send you a picture later – and I bought the entire bolt of fabric. Nicolas has a neighbor who does a lot of sewing and she’s agreed to use it to make curtains and a bedspread, and maybe some pillows with whatever’s left.” She chuckled. “I’m glad Nicolas was with me when I talked to her. Sofia kept saying that she would do it for free, and I didn’t realize that it was just the first step in the negotiations. San Trobidan etiquette seem to demand a very subtle, sophisticated bargaining process and if it had been up to me, I would have gotten free curtains, but it would have trashed my reputation.”

“We definitely can’t have that! Do you think you’re getting a feel for the local culture?”

“You know, I think I am. I’ve met some of my neighbors – the way the neighborhood is set up, there’s a lot of space between houses and there are trees on the property lines so it’s fairly private, but there’s a sort of central gathering area with a garden and a big gazebo. Our house has some guava trees out back that weren’t touched during construction so they’re absolutely loaded, and one of my neighbors has offered to teach me how to make preserves if I let her have some of the fruit.”

“Sounds like a pretty good deal to me. I’m so glad to hear that you’re settling in,” Quinn said warmly.

Taylor stretched out her legs. “It’s been a little easier than I expected. I’ve run into a few people who… well, they weren’t precisely thrilled about a same-sex couple living in their neighborhood. But when they found out that Estela is related to the famous Nicolas Montoya, and that my Spanish is a lot better than they expected, they seemed willing to tolerate us being here.”

Quinn snorted. “That’s big of them.”

“They seem to think so. On the other hand, everyone else we’ve met has been great. I just met someone from the next cul-de-sac who’s going to be teaching economics once the university opens next year – he’s just moved back from Venezuela with his wife and kids. His family left during the revolution and he’s excited to come back and help rebuilt San Trobida.”

“That’s great! He and Estela can –”

Over the phone, Taylor heard a rapping noise. “Ms. Kelly? Are you in here?”

“Busted,” Quinn sighed. She raised her voice and called out cheerfully, “I’m down here, Monique. Just picking up a file that I dropped.” She rustled some papers loudly.

“Uh-huh.” Whoever Monique was, Taylor could tell that she didn’t believe Quinn. “Well, when you’ve done that, the event planners are waiting for you in the conference room – they want to finalize some details about this weekend’s fundraiser.”

“I’ll be there in five. Thanks, Monique.” Quinn waited a few seconds, and then said, “There’s really no escape, is there?”

“Nope. You better get to your meeting and do some good.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears, as Monique says. I’ll talk to you soon – and send me pictures of your bedroom! Bye, now. Love you!”

“Love you, too.” Slipping her phone in her pocket, Taylor opened the French doors and stepped out onto the wide covered balcony that spanned the entire rear of the house. Sitting down in one of the two folding chairs, she looked around; rather than continuing with the remaining bedrooms, this should really be their next project. Even though the ocean wasn’t visible from here, the cool, fresh breeze made this one of the nicest spots in their new house. There was plenty of room for a couch and some chairs, and maybe a hammock or even a daybed for those really hot nights. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the roses that she and Estela had planted against the wall enclosing their back yard. As wonderful as they smelled, they were still a little thin; maybe they could plant some more flowers to fill in the bare spots. Something bright blue would stand out against the yellow roses. Or would red pop a little bit more? From somewhere not too far away, she could hear splashing water and the laughter of children – it was probably the Castillo kids three houses down, playing in their pool. The pool area... that was something else she and Estela should work on. The lounge chairs would arrive in a few days and maybe they could extend the awning from the back patio...?

Her phone pinged with a security alert, and she pulled it out. She blinked in surprise at the large nose filling the screen, and then she laughed. “Hello, Nicolas.”

“Ah, _mi maravilla_!” Pulling back a little, Nicolas Montoya grinned at the security camera. “I don’t suppose you could open the door for me...?”

“Sure. I’m upstairs – let yourself in and I’ll see you in a second.” She punched in the code to unlock the door as she crossed the bedroom floor and headed for the stairs. Estela was endlessly, if affectionately, frustrated by her uncle’s refusal to use the security code to enter their house if he believed either of the two women was at home.

Pulling off the green bandana covering her shoulder-length hair as she descended the staircase, Taylor hurried across the living room. “Nicolas! _Qué tal_?”

“Now that I see you, _mija_ , I’m doing very well indeed.” Nicolas pulled Taylor into a warm hug and he kissed the top of her head. “I see that Estelita’s car is gone. Has she left you here to drudge away all by yourself?”

“She’s sitting through a planning meeting at the university so right about now, she’s probably thinking that a little drudgery would be nice. I’ve been meaning to ask you – has Guapito forgiven you yet?”

Nicolas grinned. “As much as a cat is ever willing to forgive a mere human. He’s glad to be done with the cone, and I’ve assured him that he’s still very manly. But the rascal is already responsible for far too many kittens in my neighborhood! I think he’s decided to punish me by staking a permanent claim on my garden – he’s even content to come inside now and then. His current _amiga_ is sticking around as well and she’s growing plumper by the day, so I’ve already warned the veterinarian that she’ll have a batch of little patients soon. I hope I can count on you and Estela to take at least one kitten off my hands?”

“I’ll have to check with Estela, but... why not?” Taylor nodded at the large shopping bag at Nicolas’s feet. “And I told you last week – you really don’t need to bring us a present every time you visit!”

Nicolas pulled back in mock offense. “But this is a family heirloom!” When Taylor raised her eyebrows, he shrugged. “It will be someday. Let’s not split hairs. You and Estela say that you want to purchase from local merchants as much as possible, so I’ve been keeping my eyes open.” Bending down, he began pulling out layers of brown wrapping paper. “You said that you wanted something orange to place in your bedroom. I saw this in the plaza yesterday – what do you think?” he asked proudly as he lifted out a large, soft bundle.

“Nicolas, it’s perfect,” Taylor breathed as she carefully unfolded the quilt. It was made up of vivid orange and gold suns on a light blue background. “Oh, this will be gorgeous with that blue fabric I found!”

“It is. I showed it to Sofia this morning and she held it against the curtains she’s making. She kept talking about complementary colors and contrast and... well, I admit that I stopped listening after a while, but she seemed to approve.”

“And so do I.” Standing on her tiptoes, Taylor kissed his cheek. “Thank you, _tio._ I think you just earned yourself a cup of coffee, and I made shortbread yesterday.” After carefully laying the quilt on the sofa, Taylor threaded her arm through Nicolas’s and led him through the living room to the kitchen.

He laughed. “It didn’t take you long to discover the way to my heart.” He sat down at the kitchen table as Taylor busied herself with starting a pot of coffee. Looking at Taylor’s knitting basket, Nicolas carefully lifted the small red sweater sitting on the top. “This is lovely, _chiquilla_! Is it...?” Taylor turned around just in time to see the momentary disappointment in Nicolas’s eyes when he unfolded the sweater and saw its size. “Ah, I see. This must be for little Reggie.”

“It is. I was starting to think it wouldn’t be done in time for his birthday, but I finished it with plenty of time to spare.” Putting some of the shortbread on a plate, Taylor placed the buttery cookies in front of Nicolas as she sat down next to him. She hesitated, then took his hand in hers. “I’m... not sure how or when it might happen, but Estela and I are looking at our options. I hope I’ll be making something a little smaller than that before long.”

Squeezing her hand with an embarrassed laugh, Nicolas nodded. “I apologize, Taylor – I know that it’s none of my business. I hope you can forgive a meddlesome _tio_.”

Taylor smiled at him. “If I thought you were just being nosy, I’d smack you and take my cookies back. Believe me, you’ll be at the top of the list when we have something to announce.”

“Thank you, Taylor.” Nicolas’s smile grew wistful. “It’s just that Estelita is the only family I have left. Oh, there are a few distant cousins scattered like leaves, but none of them are in San Trobida. My sister is gone, and our brother was killed in the early years of the revolution. If not for Manuel’s death, I probably would have left San Trobida myself.”

When he didn’t go on, Taylor said quietly, “Manuel was your brother? Estela’s never told me about him.”

“And why should she? He died long before she was born, more than thirty-five years ago now. He was older than Olivia and I, and we looked up to him. He was our hero.” Nicolas shrugged. “You have to understand that when Salazar led his coup against the government, he had a great deal of support at first. The president at the time had looted our country to fill his own pocket. Salazar promised reforms, he promised prosperity for all, he promised... freedom.” His smile was bitter. “You’re young and I don’t know if this makes sense to you, but most people won’t hesitate to trade a few little liberties in exchange for a lovely promise.”

“I think I can understand that.” And Taylor could; after all, wasn’t that how Rourke had planned to gain power?

Nicolas didn’t seem to have heard her. “Manolo opposed him from the start, but he was one of the few. He was imprisoned a few times, and released after a week or a month, always battered and bruised... that never stopped him, though. Our parents were ashamed of him at first, and then they were afraid for him. And then one night –” Again, Nicolas shrugged. “He disappeared. His body was found a week later, riddled with bullets. I joined the revolution the next day. I was nineteen years old.” He smiled faintly. “I was exiled several times – perhaps Salazar thought it was bad luck to kill two Montoyas – but I kept finding my way back to San Trobida. I wasn’t able to visit either of my parents during their final illnesses, and I wasn’t able to help Olivia as much as I wanted when she became pregnant. I managed to keep her daughter safe, though, and I take some comfort in that. I swear that when I taught Estela to fight, I only did it so she could protect herself... but somehow, I forgot that she is a Montoya through and through. When she defied me and ran off to take part in an attempt to take over a military site – which I could have told her would fail, if she had bothered to ask me! – I was at least able to keep her from being captured. Once her wounds were healed, I sent her to the United States. I was... occupied with matters here and by the time I realized she was planning a mission of vengeance, it was too late to stop her.”

“I’m not sure you’d have been able to, even if you’d known,” Taylor said. “Estela is....”

“Estela,” Nicolas agreed. “Just before she was trapped for six months on that cursed island, we led the final attack on Salazar’s palace. When he realized that all was lost, he took his own life rather than face justice from the people he’d oppressed.” He laughed bitterly. “And before his body cooled, I was asked to lead our country in his place. Can you imagine such a thing?”

“Honestly? Not really.”

Nicolas laughed again, more genuinely this time. “This is why I like you. You are an astute young woman, and you’re not afraid to speak the truth. I would have been a disaster for my country – and worse, I would have been unhappy. At any rate, San Trobida had its first election – well, its first _fair_ election – in decades, and we have a real president now. I take great pleasure in disagreeing with her occasionally. My influence on my government is no more, and no less, than that of any other citizen, and that’s what I was fighting for.”

With a smile, Taylor stood and took two mugs out of the cabinet. As she poured the coffee, she asked, “So you’re happy with the way things turned out?”

“It’s everything I dreamed of, and more,” he replied simply. “There is still far too much poverty in San Trobida, but our people are finally working together to find solutions. An anonymous donor – I believe it is Estela’s brother, but I’ve promised to pretend ignorance on the matter – has paid all primary school fees for the next ten years, so even our poorest citizens can educate their children. For more than a generation, so many of us left San Trobida. At the very least, we sent our children out of the country to keep them safe. Now they’re starting to return – and more than that, people are actually _choosing_ to come here from other countries. When Estelita told me that the university would reopen next year, I wept. I thought it would take years, and I wondered if I would live to see it. Did you know that they’re already receiving requests for applications? From as far away as _Europe_? And I spoke to your neighbor – Señora Castillo? – as I parked my car outside. She and her husband moved here from Panama to manage one of the new hotels being built. And we need hotels, because tourists are coming as well! Our country is being reborn, so I suppose that when I saw that tiny sweater, well....”

Putting the mugs on the table, Taylor kissed Nicolas on his cheek before she sat down. “I know. Like I said, it’s something that Estela and I both want. We just need to figure out how it can work for us.”

Taylor had tried to keep her tone light, but Nicolas frowned in concern. “What is it, _chiquilla_?”

Speaking slowly, Taylor chose her words with care. “There are a lot of things to sort out. We could adopt, or one of us could use a donor. It’s just that I... never had much of a childhood and I have no idea what kind of parent I’d be. Estela wants to be a mother so much – and so do I! – but I suppose....” Taylor took a deep breath, and her words came tumbling out. “I suppose I’m afraid. I’m worried that neither of us will get pregnant, and I’m worried that no one will let us adopt a baby, and I’m worried about what that disappointment would do to us, and I’m worried that if we _do_ become parents, I won’t be any good at it. And even if everything goes perfectly, it’s going to change everything! We’ll be entirely responsible for a helpless human being. I’ve been frightened before, but this – it’s an entirely new kind of fear.”

“It is. And I’m glad you’re afraid, Taylor,” Nicolas said gently, and he smiled at her shocked stare. “Too often, people have children simply because they think that’s what adults are supposed to do. So many of my friends have snapped at me over the years when I comment on their children – they tell me that I have no idea what I’m talking about since I’ve never been a father. Well, I’m not a father _because_ I know how hard it is! Leading rebels into battle – that’s far simpler than raising a child. During the few years that I was solely responsible for Estela, I was constantly terrified. So if you’re afraid, that means that you’re not taking the responsibility lightly. But if I may suggest something? Don’t hide your fear from Estela. My niece has always tried to be strong... as, I think, you have always tried to be strong. She’s probably had the same thoughts as you, and you both need to talk about your fears now, _before_ this potential child becomes real. Will you do that for me?”

“I will.” Taylor spooned some sugar into her coffee, suddenly feeling much lighter. “Now I see why they wanted you to be president.” Nicolas snorted in disdain, but Taylor went on. “No, I’m serious. You have a way of making me feel like there’s hope – you make me feel like things will work out somehow.”

“I’m sure that they will.” Nicolas took a sip of his coffee. “I’ve never been a man of faith, but my friend Mateo and I meet for a card game every Sunday after he performs his last Mass. Perhaps this week, I’ll ask him to add you and Estela to his prayers.”

Taylor laughed as she reached for a cookie. “I think I’d appreciate that. If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that you can never tell where help might come from.”

_Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it. – Buddha_

**Author's Note:**

> In my mental landscape, at least, San Trobida is on the north coast of South America; it's got a tiny little nubbin of Panama's east side, and then stretches across the northern part of Colombia to the Venezuelan border. La Colina is approximately where Barranquilla is in the real world.
> 
> And _maravilla_ can mean either 'marvel' or 'marigold.' It seemed like the sort of nickname Nicolas would give.


End file.
